Saturday, May 26th


    Sleep was fitful at bestst night, in part because of myck of eating. I haven’t had anything since breakfast yesterday and I know it’s going to take some time to retrain my body back to the one meal a day that I manage to steal back home. My mind is swarming even worse than yesterday and I find myself wandering over to the med wing in the hopes of catching Jessa’s scent. I know she’s not physically here as the med wing only opens for emergencies on the weekends but she spends enough time here that her scent lingers for a while. I’m hoping that her scent will help clear my head considering I never did get hit with the physical pain of rejection. I guess she’s still thinking that


    one over.


    Despite my hunger, I head out of the pack house instead of the kitchen. Once I finally fell asleep ! slept past my usual wake up time and it’s too close to lunch to raid the fridge for breakfast. My past experience has taught me that leftovers are usually gone within an hour of them getting put up. I head west, away from the house. I notice quickly that the ground is quite saturated with water from the storm yesterday and it’s reeking havoc on my very worn out shoes.


    I stop in my tracks as the wind picks up some of the grass leftover from being cut before the storm. It’s easy to tell that another bad storm is brewing between the wind and the very dark sky above me. I make my way to the yground between the pack house and the prospect’s dorms. It’s been a while since I’ve stopped out here. Despite the ominous clouds there’s a ton of littles ying on therge assortment of equipment.


    My attention gets called towards the southern forest sitting 100 feet behind the yground. I can see people moving between the trees and muffled sounds that I don’t like.


    I work my way slowly through the yground, carefully avoiding the pups that havee out to y before emerging on the other side. I hear a shriek pierce through the dense trees. At first I thought I was hearing things but the deathly quiet and utter stillness of the pups behind me tell me that this was no joke. They all heard it and they all recognize what it means.


    My heart is in my throat and my breathing, tense. I’ve got an ominous feeling that always means trouble is brewing. A second shriek is cut short but not because of the thunder that rumbles in the distance. While the storm is close enough to hear it, it’s not over top of the territory causing earth shaking booms.


    I can hear several of the parents behind me start gathering their pups and start heading for the safety of their homes. Several of them mention linking with Alpha ck but I have no way of knowing if they did or not. A third muffled yell catches my attention as I slowly move towards the


    woods<b>. </b>


    While it still remains unclear it sounds a lot like a woman or child that’s being kept from screaming for help. Unfortunately for me<b>, </b>the muffled cries are moving southwest, deeper into the wooded area


    <b>1/2 </b>


    <b>Chapter </b><b>406 </b>


    <b>that </b><b>I </b>have never explored.


    <b>Patrick’s </b>group <b>of </b>prospects always worked just outside the tree line but never <b>within </b><b>it</b>, at least not during the lessons I was present for.


    <b>I </b><b>stay </b>outside the tree line but travel at a good clip until I start struggling to hear the muffled <b>cries</b><b>. </b>Once the cries stop moving west I carefully start navigating south through the trees. I’m grateful when the sounds stop moving, giving me better uracy in pinpointing exactly where <b>they </b><b>are </b><b>at</b><b>. </b>


    I continue picking my way carefully through the dense brush for at least ten minutes before entering a clearing. While the thinning out of the trees doesn’t appear purposeful the multiple man made wooden shacks located within the thousand square foot area were definitely built there for a reason<b>. </b>The river roaring thirty feet away from the furthest shack makes it difficult to hear as <b>I </b>stand frozen at the edge of the clearing.


    ‘Jamie?‘ I call out using the link I seldom use.


    ‘What’s wrong?‘ I can just about hear him yawning through the link.


    ‘Something is going on that I don’t like. I need you up, sleepy head. I need alpha.‘


    ‘What do you mean something is going on?‘


    <b>Chapter </b><b>Comments </b>


    1


    POST COMMENT NO